


Penance and Pennies

by silverwolf51



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Big Brother Gabriel, Caring Sam Winchester, Castiel Has Self-Worth Issues, Depressed Castiel, Depressing, M/M, Post 13x23, Post-Season/Series 13, wishing fountains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-28 01:42:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15037937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverwolf51/pseuds/silverwolf51
Summary: In the days after, when the tears won’t come anymore and the jabbing pain in his heart settles into a constant dull throb, the wishing fountain becomes his refuge.





	Penance and Pennies

**Author's Note:**

> An really angsty fic that sprung from listening to "The Shrine/An Argument" by The Fleet Foxes too many times. Not sure how well it turned out, but here it is! This is a bit depressing, so if you suffer from mental health issues and such, you might want to avoid this one. Anyway, hope you all enjoy it!

     In the days after, when the tears won’t come anymore and the jabbing pain in his heart settles into a constant dull throb, the wishing fountain becomes his refuge. It’s a small one, more like a bird feeder to be honest, old pennies and pocket change from eons ago drifting in the murky water. Sam found it in one of the bunker’s hidden rooms, a sort of underground greenhouse filled with long dead gladiolus, dried out poppies, a shriveled apple tree and wilted white clover. Rowena had managed to magic them back to life, but the smell of rot still clung to the place like a babe to its mother’s breast, and no one could stand to be there for more than an hour at most. No one but him, of course.

     He’d learned long ago to ignore the scent of death on the night air. Gabriel, in fact, was the one who’d taught him how. The lesson was not an easy one, but it had been necessary in order to survive the first Heavenly Civil War. Even now, he remembers the golden archangel, eyes normally filled with laughter and light, snatching him from the garden where he’d been playing before snapping his fingers and locking him into the illusory remnants of a battlefield, bodies of the dead and dying surrounding him on all sides. “I’m so sorry Castiel,” he’d said, tears streaming down his face, “But you must know the truth of war before you enter into it, and make no mistake dear fledgling, war is coming. These elysian days of peace will end any day now.” Gabriel had cupped the fledgling’s terrified face in his hands, intertwining their graces for a moment before stepping away, face hard and stony. “Know this about war. There is no glory in it. There is no triumph. There is no justice. What you have been taught before is all lies. Witness it for yourself my brother, for that is the only way you will live.”

     With that, he’d disappeared, leaving Castiel standing there among blood-slick fields, smoke and holy-fire ashes singeing his tiny wings while the wails of the doomed filled his ears. It wasn’t even an hour before Annael had found him in a shaking heap atop one of the celestial spires and taken him to Raphael to recover, but the lesson had seared its way into his very being. A few days later, when war had been declared and Lucifer supporters had ambushed the nursery, Castiel had been the only fledgling to escape fully-intact. Gabriel’s lesson had saved him, and often times he wondered why his brother had chosen HIM of all people to impart his wisdom upon, but there was no asking him now. Gabriel was long gone, and with him any hope he had of rescuing Dean.

      Dean…. Now that was a thought that hurt. The green-eyed hunter had been a constant presence ever since Castiel had first descended to Earth, and now that he was absent, the angel’s world seemed to be slipping through his fingers a little more each day. Try as he might, he just couldn’t stop seeing the little leftover bits and pieces Dean had left behind, and it was killing him. The red and black flannel slung haphazardly on the wooden chair, the empty bottles of Jack Daniels, the Led Zeppelin and Metallica tapes…His soul seemed to splinter in two every time he caught sight of them. Castiel had left his mark upon The Righteous Man, but a mark had been left upon his very being in return, and every reminder made it pulse and throb with a sadness he’d never known before. And so here he stays, in a greenhouse veiled in the scent of decay and sorrow, kneeling before a fountain like it was his only salvation with shaking, change-filled hands. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself and began to throw the coins in.

One. _“I wish I wasn’t so useless.”_  
Two. _“I wish I could have helped you.”_  
Three. _“I wish you had taken me with you, though I know I am worthless.”_  
Four. _“I wish you were not so willing to sacrifice yourself for a world that does not know your name.”_  
Five. _“I wish you knew how much you mean to so many people. How much you mean to me.”_  
Six. _“I wish you knew how empty life is without you, how much I need you here.”_  
Seven. _“I wish I had told you that I loved you._ ”  
########  
Later that night, when Sam finds him lying still on the floor, the shattered remnants of the fountain scattered all around him, his hands bloody from the shards, he merely picks the angel up without a word, and holds him while he cries.

**Author's Note:**

> Gladiolus- Faithfulness  
> Poppies- Remembrance  
> White clover- Think of Me  
> Apple Tree- Future Happiness


End file.
